Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Daciana
The festival sprawls before us like an image from a dream.
Lanterns hang from every post and tree, their warm glow painting everything in shades of amber and gold.
The air smells of roasted meat and sweet pastries, and everywhere I look, humans are laughing, dancing, living without the weight of survival crushing down on them.
“Come on,” Kieran says, his hand finding the small of my back. His palm is warm through the thin fabric of my shirt, his fingers splayed wide. “Let’s try everything.”
I glance up at him. “Everything?”
“Everything.” His eyes gleam playfully, a look I’ve never seen before from my mate. It transforms him, makes him seem younger despite the silver that highlights his dark hair.
We start at a game booth where children are throwing wooden balls at painted bottles. Kieran pays the vendor and hands me three balls. His fingers brush mine, lingering longer than necessary.
“I’ve never done this before,” I admit.
“I’ll teach you.” He moves behind me, his chest against my back, and guides my arm through the throwing motion. His breath tickles my ear. “See? Just like that.”
I throw. The ball sails wide, missing everything.
Kieran laughs—actually laughs—and the sound does something to my insides. “Maybe I’m not the best teacher.”
“Maybe I’m just terrible at this.” But I’m grinning as I say it.
He takes his turn, and of course his throw is perfect. Bottles crash down in a clatter of thick glass against wood. The vendor hands him a small, carved wolf, and Kieran immediately passes it to me.
“For you.”
I clutch it to my chest, warmth spreading through me that has nothing to do with the summer air. “My first prize.”
“The first of many.” His hand slides around my waist, thumb tracing small circles against my hip. It’s not overtly sexual, but it’s intimate. Claiming in a way that makes me feel warm inside.
We move through the festival like this, his touch a constant presence.
When we stop at a food stall, his palm rests on the curve where my waist meets my hip.
When we watch a fire-breather perform, his fingers toy with the ends of my hair.
When we sample honey cakes, he wipes a crumb from my lip with his thumb, then brings it to his own mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re being very”—I search for the word as we walk—“tactile.”
“Does it bother you?” he asks, but his hand doesn’t move from where it is settled on my lower back, just above the swell of my backside.
“No.” My voice comes out breathier than expected. “I just…I’m not used to being touched like this.”
He stops and turns me to face him. Around us, the crowd flows like water past stones. “Like what?”
“Like I’m…” I struggle to articulate it. “Like I’m yours.”
A fierce look flashes across his face. “You are mine.” His hand slides higher, cupping my breast through my shirt right there in the middle of the festival. It’s quick, possessive, and completely inappropriate. Heat floods my face. “And I’m yours. If you want me.”
“I want you.” The words slip out before I can stop them.
He groans low in his throat and pulls me close. His lips find my temple, my cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me, Daciana.”
“Promises, promises,” I tease.
We keep moving, but the air between us is now charged.
Every brush of his hand feels deliberate.
When we reach a tent selling ribbons, he buys a deep red one and ties it around my wrist himself, his fingers lingering on my pulse point.
When we pass through a narrow space between booths, his hand slides to my hip, pulling me against him so I feel every hard plane of his body.
“Kieran,” I whisper.
“I know.” His voice is rough. “I can smell you. Your arousal.”
Gods, this man.
Then, the music starts. It’s coming from an open area where drums and strings are set up, and couples are already dancing together, bodies moving in time with the rhythm.
Kieran stops. Stares. Then, he looks down at me. “Dance with me.”
My heart kicks against my ribs. “I—I’ve never danced before.”
“Neither have I.” A smile tugs at his lips. “But the humans make it look fun.”
Before I can protest, he’s dragging me into the crowd. People make space for us, and then he pulls me close, one hand on my waist, the other hand catching one of mine.
“Just follow my lead,” he says.
“That’s what blind people say before they fall off cliffs.”
He laughs again, and we start to sway. It’s awkward at first—I step on his feet twice—but then, it clicks. Our bodies find a rhythm, moving together like we were made for this. For each other.
I look up at him, this man who was a stranger just weeks ago. Now, he is everything. The stirring in my chest intensifies, becomes an ache. “I’m doing a lot of things I’ve never done before today.”
He smiles at me. “Good.”
He twirls me suddenly, and I let out a surprised laugh. When he pulls me back, it’s into his chest, and I’m completely surrounded by him. His scent, his heat, his strength.
“I’ll give you the life you never thought you could have,” he murmurs against my hair. “Everything you’ve been denied. I swear it.”
I tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “Promises, promises.”
The kiss he plants on the tip of my nose is feather light. “I always keep my promises.” Out of the blue, his expression darkens, clouding over like a storm rolling in. His grip on me tightens, almost painfully. “Most of them, anyway,” he adds, his voice becoming hollow.
No. Not now. Not when we’re supposed to be happy.
I reach up and force him to look at me, my hands on either side of his face. “Hey. I have no plans of being killed. Not in this life.”
His jaw hardens, teeth grinding slowly. He nods, but I can see the fear in his eyes. The desperate, clawing terror that he’s going to lose me like he lost them.
I wind my arms around his neck and pull him down to me. Our lips meet, and it’s like striking a match. Everything ignites.
He kisses me like I’m the only thing keeping him tethered to this world. His hand slides into my hair, angling my head so he can deepen the kiss, and his other hand grips my hip so hard, I know I’ll have bruises.
Good. I want them. I want to carry the marks of his desperation, his fear, his need.
The kiss turns frantic. Hungry. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, and I moan, pressing myself against him. I can feel how hard he is, feel the tremor running down his powerful body.
I sense it then—the fear coursing through him like poison. The desperation of a man who has loved and lost so many times and can’t bear to do it again. So, when he gets aggressive, when his teeth catch my bottom lip hard enough to sting, I let him. I give him what he needs.
Because loving Kieran is so easy, it terrifies me. This man who is willing to do anything for me, who puts me first, who makes me feel cherished, which I’ve never felt before.
But the middle of a dance floor isn’t where we need to be right now.
I break the kiss, and both of us are panting. His eyes are wild, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any gray left.
“Come with me,” I say, and I grab his hand.
I pull him through the crowd, away from the music and lights. People blur past us. The sounds of the festival start to fade. I lead him into the woods just beyond the edge of the town—far enough that we’re out of sight but close enough that I can still hear the distant drums.
The moment we’re hidden by trees, Kieran has me backed up against one. His mouth crashes into mine, all control abandoned. His hands slide up my sides, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts before cupping them fully. Each touch brands me.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice is gravelly and low. He doesn’t wait for an answer before his mouth finds my neck, teeth scraping terrifyingly close to the mating mark.
“Kieran—” My breath hitches as his hands slide beneath my shirt, palms hot against my bare skin.
“I’m going to make you come apart,” he murmurs. “Right here. Against this tree.”
He pushes my shirt up and over my head, tossing it aside as his mouth trails down my throat to my collarbone, then lower. When his lips close around my nipple, I gasp, my fingers diving into his hair.
“Gods,” I breathe, arching into him.
His tongue swirls, teeth grazing just enough to make me whimper. He lavishes attention on one breast, then the other, his hands never stopping their exploration of my body. Every touch is possessive, demanding.
I feel him undoing my trousers, and they land on the ground before I can register what is happening.
Kieran’s fingers are thick as he shoves two of them inside me.
My head falls back against the tree. Feeling his fingers inside my wet pussy makes me moan loudly.
He knows exactly how to curl them, which spots to hit to have me gasping his name like a mantra, my hips grinding down on his hand helplessly.
He chuckles darkly. “Do you like that, little wolf?”
I realize he’s not moving his fingers anymore.
I’m fucking myself on his hand. My hands grip his shoulders as my eyes meet his.
His gaze holds a ravenous hunger as if he wants nothing more than to devour me.
A whine slips out of me; I try to cover my mouth, but he pulls my hand away, forcing it back to his shoulder.
“Nobody can hear you out here. I’ve put up a barrier. I want my name on your lips, Daciana.”
His fingers twist inside me with these words, and I scream, shattering all over his hand.
“My beautiful girl,” he whispers against my neck as he pulls out his fingers.
He circles my neck with one hand and offers me his coated fingers with the other. My lips part, and I lick myself off those fingers, holding his gaze. He lets out a shuddering breath.
My legs are trembling, and when he removes his fingers from my mouth, a different kind of hunger takes over me.